Body Image

In my head, right up until about a month ago, I had the fabulous body of an active 30-something lady, with a lucky metabolism that lets her eat what she wants. My body image was amazing.

While I was in Sydney in early December, I stayed in a small apartment with full length mirrors on many walls, to make the room look bigger. In fact, the mirrors made everything look bigger. For the whole week, every morning when I got up, and every evening when I came back, I was able to see myself, in full length, looking decidedly bigger.

At home, we have a full length mirror in the guest bathroom. I go in there occasionally to make sure my shoes match my dress, and that sort of important thing. But I haven't bought any new dresses recently, so I've had no need to check out my full length. It seems that when you don't look at yourself in your full length glory regularly, that you get the wrong picture of what you actually look like. 

The Sydney mirrors told me that I actually have the body of a middle-aged 40-something, with a metabolism that has sloooowed. 

Ironically, I *am* a middle aged 40-something. I knew this by the calendar, I just didn't match it up with my vision of myself. 

I mean, I know I've been getting a little heavier. But I don't really watch the scale that much either. I had resigned myself to the fact that I was five pounds heavier than I was in my 30s. Oh well. That's not so bad when you slide into your mid-40s, right? Except after the Sydney event, I weighed myself to find that I actually weigh 10 pounds more than the heavier weight that was in my head. 

Ok this is getting problematic. 

And add to that my optometrist's comment last week that the eye strain I'm feeling when I look at my phone means I'm about ready for my old-lady bifocals. Really? Really?

I don't know when this happened. Without paying attention, I have gotten old.

Jonathan says I should get over my negative body image. I need to embrace the middle aged lady who is me. But this whole negative image thing is just so recent. And realistic. 

My body is still fabulous. As I sit here writing, I am doing it with all 10 fingers on two hands. That's pretty amazing. And I can walk and talk and talk while walking most of the time. 

But maybe it is time to get serious about being healthy, and healthy aging. Maybe it is time to be more consistent with my strength training exercises, to build back a metabolism that lets me eat what I want. 

Or maybe it is time to stop eating what I want. I will never again have the same metabolism as the teenager in residence. Just because he needs a bazillion calories to survive the day does not mean I get to eat that too. 

So sad!

I remember when my dad was about my age, or maybe just a few years older, he stopped working in a job that kept him physically active all day, and he immediately started growing a bit of a belly. 

"It's great," he said, referring to the belly. "I no longer have the skinny body of a teenager!"

But dang. I had hoped I had inherited genes to give me a skinny teenager body into my 80s and 90s. 

Beach photo from July. Not the body of a skinny teenager. But the sunset was amazing!

 

Happy New Year 2023

Last night, on New Year's Eve, Jonathan and I stayed out late. We caught the 9:30pm fireworks, and then the midnight fireworks, with dancing in the park in between. 

Melbourne shoots fireworks off of the tall buildings in the city: over 30 buildings this year. They also shoot them from a few parks around the city. We camped out in one of those parks in the early evening, and met three of Jonathan's friends, each with a parent. It was warm, so we picked a spot with lots of shade -- 

-- which was great for the evening, but not as great for the fireworks. We had to move to see the city skyline at midnight. 

In between, there was some live music, the early fireworks for the families, and then DJ Tanya in her sparkly suit led us in dancing.

People were pretty into it this year. Meaning Jonathan was a super energetic all night dancer. 

There was also a laser show.

The insects congregated under the spotlights. Good time to break out the insect spray. 

And then midnight fireworks. Happy 2023!

And where, you ask, was Tim this year? He's in the US, with tickets to the Rose Bowl in a couple of days. Happy alternative New Year Party, Tim, in a few hours.